


Nightmares

by beckettemory



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckettemory/pseuds/beckettemory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hermann frowned, remembering the bags under Newton's eyes and the constant bubbling of the coffee maker in the corner brewing pot after pot of strong coffee all day."<br/>-------------------<br/>Hermann, sore after a long day, passes the laboratory and realises that, though well into the night, Newton is still working, and has been acting strangely for a few days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

Hermann limped down the halls of the Vladivostok Shatterdome toward his quarters, hands clasping and unclasping from the effort. People streamed past him in both directions toward their stations for the graveyard shift, toward a very late supper, toward their own quarters for the evening. Haste seemed to be the common theme of the hallways at all hours of the day.

Hermann cursed his aching hip and the pain that radiated down his leg in waves with every step. He'd need a cane sooner or later. Just his luck to be born into the Gottlieb family, whose males were known for their near universal hip replacements by the age of forty.

He hissed quietly as a large man passing around him got too close and he almost lost his balance recoiling. He muttered irritatedly to himself and kept walking, just wanting to be in his own bed with a hot cup of tea and a book. He hoped he'd be able to fall asleep relatively quickly tonight so he could get in at least a few decent hours of sleep before he needed to be in the lab to give a progress report to the Marshall.

He was so absorbed in the thought of slipping into his warm bed that he almost passed his laboratory without properly registering the loud music still emanating from it. He checked his watch, though he was sure the last time he'd checked it had been--yes, it was almost half past midnight now. Hermann frowned, remembering the bags under Newton's eyes and the constant bubbling of the coffee maker in the corner brewing pot after pot of strong coffee all day.

He limped into the lab to find Newton at a specimen table, back to the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He cleared his throat and Newton spun around clumsily, startled, and nearly dropped the scalpel he held before hurriedly putting it down.

"Oh, it's just you," he breathed with relief.

Hermann noticed a few small coffee stains on the scientist's white shirt and eyed the still steaming mug a few feet away on a rolling cart. He looked even worse than he had during the day; his eyes darted about restlessly above dark bruise-like circles. He shifted from foot to foot constantly, as if unable to stand stationary.

"Are you alright, Newton?" Hermann asked, seeing the real answer when Newton stripped off his latex gloves and wiped at his brow with a shaking hand.

"What? No, I'm fine. Really." He took a sip of the coffee and moved to the computer, where he booted up a seemingly random screen and studied it intently. Hermann moved behind him and glanced at the screen, his suspicions confirmed when he saw that the page open was Hong Kong's weather forecasts for one month from now.

"Newton."

"What, Hermann?" Newton responded, sounding annoyed. "I'm busy."

"Ah, yes, of course, I assume the weather patterns in a city in which we are not stationed are of extreme importance to you at twelve-thirty in the morning."

"What do you want, Hermann," Newton asked flatly.

"How long has it been since you've slept?" Hermann's leg was threatening collapse, and he gripped the large computer to steady himself. There were more pressing matters.

Newton mumbled what could have been words, not looking away from the screen. Hermann reached over and shut the computer off, prompting a loud "hey!" from his colleague.

"I'm sorry, how long?" he asked, feeling like an exasperated parent.

Newton looked away. "Three days."

"Why on earth have you not slept in three days?" Hermann implored.

Newton got up and hurried back to his specimen, writing something on a nearby clipboard until Hermann followed him and took the clipboard from him, feeling more than ever like a parent to a stubborn child.

"Okay, fine! I have nightmares! Leave me alone!" Newton admitted, throwing his hands up, then moving several feet away and crossing his arms.

Hermann felt a sudden wave of sympathy for the biologist. He turned and painfully made his way to the coffee maker, then shoved the device aside to root around for his tea supplies, which always seemed to be pushed to the parts of the cart difficult to reach. He brewed two mugs of herbal tea and pulled two chairs to face each other a few feet apart, then went to Newton, who leaned against the specimen table, staring blankly into the depths of the as-of-yet unidentified Kaiju organ. He placed a hand on the shorter man's shoulder and steered him to one of the chairs. Newton sat, crossing and uncrossing his legs twice before pulling a leg under him and accepting the mug of tea offered him. Hermann sat in the chair opposite with some relief.

"Now then," Hermann began, pausing to take a sip of the warm chamomile, "nightmares?"

Newton took a slow pull at the drink with shaky hands and nodded, visibly gathering his thoughts.

"It's just...it's the Kaiju, man," he started. "They never really freaked me out before but a few nights ago I had this really intense nightmare about them."

Hermann nodded and waited for him to continue.

"I dreamt that...well, my parents live in Berlin, but I dreamt that they had spur-of-the-moment packed up and moved to San Francisco...right before K-Day."

Now Hermann understood.

"And they were killed, were they? In the nightmare," he prompted gently. Newton nodded, staring unseeingly at a point somewhere behind Hermann's shoulder. After a moment he snapped out of it and gazed into his tea instead.

"I guess I never really took them seriously before. I mean, I practically worship them. Look at my arms." He held up one arm and Hermann's eyes travelled along the colourful images at which he could never seem to get a good look. This change in attitude certainly explained Newton's recent extreme focus on his work, to the point of working through a couple meals as well as sleep, apparently. Newton dropped his arm and scrubbed a hand over his eyes and through his hair, knocking his glasses askew and leaving his hair sticking up awkwardly.

"Did you...I mean, when was the last time you talked to your parents?"

"After I woke up three days ago. They're fine. Still in Berlin. Safe. I talked to them last week, too, before the nightmares, I mean, it wasn't like I haven't talked to them in years, so I don't know why I..." he stopped himself.

"You don't have nightmares often, do you," Hermann asked quietly, a sudden realisation. He knew the answer.

"No," Newton confirmed, staring into his tea again. "Just the two big ones a few days ago and the day before that. Well, since I was little, I mean." He paused, then, seemingly unconsciously, wrapped one arm around his middle. "I was scared to fall asleep again," he whispered.

Hermann thought back to every nightmare he'd awoken from in the months following K-Day, the nightmares that inspired him to continue with his studies and to eventually apply for the PPDC. He was no stranger to nightmares. But he saw a way to help.

"You dreamt of the destruction in San Francisco, yes?" Newton nodded. "That was the worst of it. We've not had any sort of destruction like that since, have we? We keep fighting. We keep getting more and more information to use against them. You and I--and every other K-Science officer--are working to ensure San Francisco never happens again."

Newton had looked up at Hermann and gradually his shaking had slowed. He took a sip of the tea and Hermann saw his chance.

"And, as the pilots and crew rely on us for information, we must do our jobs well, correct?" Newton nodded. "Right. Then you must agree that in order to do our jobs well we must remain alert." Newton nodded again. "And in the interest of personal safety so that we may continue obtaining useful information for the pilots and crew, we should probably not wield sharp instruments like scalpels when we have not slept in three days. And, as a matter of course, we should probably not refrain from sleeping for three days." Newton chuckled and nodded.

He had begun bouncing his leg up and down and he rubbed at his eyes, then shook his head hard as though to clear it. Hermann took it as a sign that the chamomile was working.

"Are you feeling any better about the nightmares?" he asked. Newton thought for a moment, then nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Do you think you can sleep?"

"I think so." He paused. "Thanks, Hermann."

Hermann smiled and inclined his head, then sat his mug aside and stood painfully. He extended a hand toward his colleague.

"Come. Let's to bed," he suggested. Newton snorted.

"What? No one says that."

"I believe I just did, Newton," Hermann retorted tiredly, though secretly pleased he was feeling confident enough to joke again.

Newton stood with Hermann's shaky help, but didn't let go of his hand when he was upright. He squeezed Hermann's hand and smirked up at him.

"Are you inviting me into your bed, Hermann? Is that it?" He winked.

"Wha--I-- _no_!" Hermann sputtered, but made no move to extricate his hand.

"Aha! So you _are_!" Newton laughed and stood on his tiptoes to press a loud kiss to a blushing and still sputtering Hermann's nose, then headed for the door, leaving Hermann with little choice but to trail after him like a dog on a leash toward his quarters.

He found that, while he was embarrassed, he wasn't totally unopposed to the idea of sharing a bed with Newton.

"If it will help Newton sleep more soundly," he told himself, "it can't hurt."


End file.
